Another Life
by AllTimeNatalie
Summary: It was times like this he wanted his best friend back. Character death, angst and Howard/Vince, T for self harm and very strong angst. Also some language later on.


**Disclaimer: Don't own Boosh, never will, all rights belong to Noelio and JuJu **

**Summary: It was times like this he wanted his best friend back. Character death, angst and Howard/Vince**

**Title: Another Life**

**A/N: Alright you cheeky bitches! I am so sorry for disappearing for what seems like forever but here I am once more and this is kind of a comeback thing so lots of chapters. I shall dedicate my time to writing this. I hope you enjoy it and please leave feedback.**

**Much love, Mrs Old Gregg :D **

**Chapter one- Escape **

The rain seemed never ending in Dalston. It hadn't stopped falling since he fell. Howard hadn't moved from the window that overlooked the back alley where it happened. The back alley he should've been in. The back alley _he_shouldn't have been in. It was about that time again, the time when he dragged a razor blade across his wrist and regretted what he did. Or, should we say he regretted what he didn't do. It was about that time when he watched the blood drip from the freshly made wound and stain his cream carpet. Then, he'd bandage it up, make an excuse to Naboo and carry on like nothing happened. He'd found a new talent in creating a façade of happiness. He'd become good at plastering a smile on his face and getting on with the day. However, in the recesses of his mind, _he_was always there. _He _would never leave him alone. _He_always plagued him like a stubborn virus and refused to go away. No matter how hard he tried, he just shake away the memory. He looked forward to sleep, to the chance of an escape into his dream world where _he_was still with him. Yet _he_still stalked him in his dreams. They were always vivid. Horrible re-runs of the same scene in his head. They never stopped. Night after night, week after week, they were there and they always would be. It was strange, re-wind time and it would seem like you lived in another world, another universe. So much laughter filled the room when _he_stepped into it. Howard stared at the razor in his hand and shook away all thought of self harm. Instead, he stood from the stained pool of crimson on the carpet and stepped into the living room.

"Cup a tea Naboo?" He noted the slight nod of Naboo's turban and turned to face the small kitchen nook. He remembered watching_ him _stand in the exact same place he was stood and attempt to flip a pancake every Pancake Tuesday. And every time, _he'd_fail but still have that goofy, giant, gorgeous grin on_ his _face. He missed that grin too much. He'd do anything to see that grin again. It was ironic, the way that he constantly went on about how he could've been a jazz musician or a poet if he didn't have _him_to look after but now _he_was gone, he missed _him. _Yes,_ he _was an annoying, childish simpleton that dressed like a futuristic prostitute but _he_was his futuristic prostitute. Howard's eyes glanced over to the mirror ball suit that hung on a pink and blue sequinned hanger- customised of course. He felt a tear well up in his eye but he refused to let it fall. His lips curved into a smile at the fond memory of _him_when he first wore the train wreck that was called the mirror ball suit. He remembered _him_handing him a tweed version and telling him that it was the perfect outfit for librarians. 'Just you wait Howard, in a few months all the avid book readers will be wearing one of these babies and you were the first person to own one!' _He_'d smiled while prancing around like Mick Jagger.

"Here you go." Howard smiled and handed Naboo a steaming mug. The small shaman didn't reply but scratched his stubble. He hadn't shaved in a few days; he didn't see the point any more. Bollo had been hit pretty badly; he'd locked himself in his room and only ventured into the rest of the flat to get food. However Howard had been hit the worst, each scar on his wrists and arms signified another day without _him._ Every day felt like a decade, every second felt like an hour. He felt as though he was stuck in an endless void of unhappiness and hurt. He would have done anything to be with _him_**. **Slowly, he opened the door to his room and set his eyes on the familiar puddle of red. The door creaked as he closed and locked it before reaching for the razor blade once more; before reaching for his escape.

**A/N: Apologies for all the angst and the shortness! Hope you enjoyed it and the second chapter will be coming sonly. Yes, all the 'he's' and 'him's etc in italics are on purpose, for dramatic effect! So, please leave feedback and subscribe if you liked it and thanks for reading! Next chapter coming soon, they will get longer and there will be a fair few of them so I hope it's worth reading. Much love! **


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